"I am the speaker of the Imperial delegation," I declared, rising up from the floor. The carpeted floor was immaculate and red. I suppose blood wouldn't do it too much of a disservice, I thought facetiously. 

"You're the ambassador?" He asked, confusion screwing his face up. 

"Er, not exactly." I replied, a part of me wishing to claim I was as I felt I might as well be, but as big of a liar as I could be, there was no use for it here other than to sate my own ego. Plus, we were already on the hunt for the true ambassador. "I am merely an advisor and translator. I am Kian of the cult of Sigmar. The delectable lady before you is Camilla, and we both seek the chamberlain that arrived yesterday, just before you, I imagine. You wouldn't have..." My voice trailed off as I saw him about to burst with protestation on being asked where someone was when he was just assailed and his guard butchered. "Anyway, did you say it was Romero that killed your men?" 

"Yes," The Luccini delegate said, trying to collect himself. I wanted to tell him to put his pants on but he had been through much and I did not want to ruin his train of thought. "His guard came in just as we were dining. He had said we would have the room for ourselves, and then suddenly his men streamed into the room, swords and pistols and bloodletting. My aide put me in the closet before I was seen. Poor man was dead as the rest of them when the deed was done." He seemed on the verge of tears from the stress. I would have offered him a prayer with some of Sigmar's grace, but my next benediction that had any sort of power might kill me, and I doubted a normal prayer to Sigmar could assuage this southerner. I sighed and instead put my hand on his shoulder. 

"Well, you are safe now, sir. The palace is in pandemonium. I doubt anyone now believes you're alive." 

"True, pretty priest. I did not until this very moment." A woman's voice rang out across the room. My heart skipped a beat and all three of us turned to see Imeldo Mondo step into the room, adorned sumptuously in a puffed up dress and a well pressed blouse, flanked by a number of Condottieri streaming into the room from the main door leading to the upper floors, as well as three pretty girls rouged and dressed as Camilla had been the previous day. "My, I just thought that I could do for some breakfast, and here I am to see your handsome face, the Luccini ambassador, and my own girl." Behind them, held by two men and bound, was the fat Chamberlain Shultz, still in his nightrobes. He was gagged, else I imagined he would have said something along the lines of 'good heavens, this is most uncomfortable' or the like. 

"You've done well, Camilla." She purred, smug as fat cat. "Distracting the priest like that all last night, not that it was a hard job, I imagine. I wish I could keep him alive to get a taste myself, but business is business."